The quest of Ysandra Mander
by Lyra Ollivander
Summary: When Ysandra was student in Hogwarts, she tried to discover the key of a mystery linked to her family's past. She failed. And now, coming back as a teacher, she has to confront the same riddle, and Professor Snape...Please R & R !
1. Prologue : Memories of a night long gone

Disclaimer : Everything, as usual, belongs to JKR, except Ysandra.  
  
As it is my first fanfic, and as English is not my native tongue, please forgive all the weaknesses in the following chapter. I hope to improve by experience, so every advices, suggestions and remarks are very welcome. Please review !  
  
  
  
1.1.1 The quest of Ysandra Mander  
  
  
  
2 Prologue : Memories of a night long gone  
  
****  
  
"Home is where one starts from. As we grow older  
  
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated  
  
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment  
  
Isolated, with no before and after,  
  
But a lifetime burning in every moment  
  
2.1 And not the lifetime of one man only  
  
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered."  
  
T. S. Eliot, "East Coker"  
  
****  
  
He was generally up early, round six, when the mists were hanging on Hogwarts's towers like flocks of cotton. However, this particular morning, he went up earlier and, shrouded in his black robe, proceeded to the owlery. The message he wanted to send could have waited for an hour or two, but he was sleepless anyway.  
  
In the dim light of the day dawning, he could have been mistaken with one of the familiar ghosts, sliding down the stairs with only the faintest swish, hadn't he been so dark himself that he seemed to attract and absorb all the darkness around while he silently moved.  
  
"Dark, that's the right term", thought seven year's Ravenclaw Ysandra, when she saw him pass right in front of her, his suspicious gaze lingering on her hidden form as if he was able to detect her presence, even under the invisibility cloak.  
  
Dark and dreadful, especially when you know with perfect clarity that being discovered could cost your house at least fifty points, and could cost you.well, with Snape, who could say, but Ysandra's imaginative mind was well able to conceive what amount of really forbidding tasks, provided to keep her busy during an endless week end of detention, were ready to escape from the Potions Master's swift brain.  
  
Ysandra had obtained the invisibility cloak from Potter, who was in fifth year, two days ago. She was dispensed from explaining her exact purpose, for Harry wasn't the kind of guy who would take advantage on someone asking for a service.  
  
"As long as what you want to do cannot cause any harm to my house or yours, he said, that's all right with me."  
  
"It's a purely personal matter, Ysandra answered reassuringly. No one will be involved, except myself."  
  
These few words were enough for him to trust her. With the cloak, she knew she could roam unnoticed during the night and, maybe, find the key of the mystery that was her family's burden since generations.  
  
Lost into her memories, Ysandra stayed crouched against the wall, trying hard to conceal the regular little haze of condensation caused by her breathing into her cupped hands. She shivered, but it was not caused by the cold autumnal dampness.  
  
"How strange, she thought; A shiver seems to be the pavlovian response of my body to Snape's proximity, even when he doesn't glare at me with this black icy pupils of his."  
  
She suddenly realised that the man passed by ten minutes ago, and that she had been paralysed since. Cautiously, she stood up against the wall, made some awkward movements to wake up her stiffened limbs, looked right and left, and finally made her way back to her house's entrance. Unfortunately, the tall distinguished framed gentleman who kept guard had apparently decided to go for a walk, so she sat down with a deep sigh on the bench near the painting, and began to wait for his return.  
  
"Seems that I'm not alone to wander at night, said an ironic little voice inside her head. First, Snape, then the portrait.Well, maybe he's got a date with the friendly fat lady from Gryffindor."  
  
Ysandra's imagination began to represent the tall gentleman wooing the severe lady with all the delicacy of medieval fin'amor, and she silently laughed to herself.  
  
"Well, she thought, I have some time, for no one ever wakes up before six thirty in Ravenclaw. Intellectuals are such good sleepers."  
  
Then, as she was finally calming down, turning and returning in her mind her unsuccessful attempts, this very night and the night before, to find answers to her problem amongst the dusty volumes of the Library's forbidden aisle, she quietly dozed off.  
  
A sudden noise startled her ; then the question popped up out of nowhere.  
  
"Would you be kind enough, Miss Mander, to let me know what you're doing outside of your dormitory at five thirty ?"  
  
Completely awoken, Ysandra froze when she heard the unmistakable sneer underlying this slow and articulate drawl. Professor Severus Snape was standing near the bench, so close that she could have touched his robe, his eyes severely staring at hers.  
  
While sitting down, the invisibility cloak had slipped from her head to her shoulders, giving her the astounding appearance of a head floating above the bench, but she was already half asleep, and too tired to notice.  
  
"Well, someone else definitely did", she thought bitterly, and braced herself for what was to come. She looked up at Snape who opened his mouth again.  
  
.And began to squeak.  
  
****  
  
Ysandra woke up : the wheels of the Hogwarts Express were squeaking continuously as the train stopped at his terminus. She briefly looked at her reflection in the window : pale, sleepy eyes, brown hair tousled. She certainly needed a pause before taking the boat to the School.  
  
Decisively, she went out and, without a flicker of concern for her luggage, that would certainly be transferred to her new quarters in a very short time, she walked out of the station and headed to a nearby oak standing on top of the hill, at the exact place where her memories placed it and, as she had done ten years ago, before leaving Hogwarts, she sat on one of its prominent roots and let her thoughts wander from the past to the future at hand.  
  
**** 


	2. A restless soul

Disclaimer : Everything, as usual, belongs to JKR, except Ysandra…  
  
Finding some extra time to write this is REALLY hard : the amount of time elapsed since I posted the Prologue is quite significant, I guess. Hopefully, I will be able to give this more attention very soon. So, please, tell me if it's worth the effort (flame me if you don't like it, but I would really appreciate any constructive remark or suggestion…)  
  
  
  
1.1.1 The quest of Ysandra Mander  
  
2 Chapter 1 : A restless soul  
  
****  
  
"Dawn points, and another day  
  
Prepares for heat and silence. Out at sea the dawn wind  
  
Wrinkles and slides. I am here  
  
Or there, or elsewhere . In my beginning."  
  
T. S. Eliot, "East Coker"  
  
****  
  
Albus Dumbledore was pacing round the Great Hall, mumbling, when Argus Filch stopped in front of him, followed by his usual cat-shaped shadow. Dumbledore wondered, as he did each time he saw the animal, if she was an independent being or only a furry embodiment of Filch's usual discontentment.  
  
"Headmaster, he said, I want to inform you that Professor Mander's luggages were taken into her chambers a while ago. I've been told that she delayed in taking the boat and was last seen sitting under the big oak near the train station", he added with a short disapprobative sigh.  
  
"Good, Dumbledore thought. Filch already decided that he was hating Ysandra. Truth to be told, the contrary would have been a surprise ; she wasn't exactly in his good graces as a student, after all…"  
  
Brought back to reality by a grunt, he lifted his eyes to meet Filch's and replied with a big bright smile : "Good, Argus – she's always been the dreamy type !"  
  
And as Filch was leaving, silently wondering why Dumbledore was so stubbornly choosing former head cases as teachers, Hogwart's Headmaster, still smiling, went back to his chambers.  
  
It was such a long time since he last saw Ysandra Mander… She'd left soon after her graduation, and had seemed to loose any interest in magic for a while, following studies in Trinity College, a well-known University located in the muggle town called Dublin. She had willingly forgotten any contact she'd ever had with her fellow sorcerers. Not that she was a leader with a big amount of devoted friends during her scholarship…  
  
No, Dumbledore thought, she was always slightly apart, almost alienated to everything that seemed – and continues to seem right now – important to the average Hogwart's student. No passion for Quidditch whatsoever. No little feuds, no fight for the first place.  
  
She was a hard worker, for sure, and had good results, but without being really noticed, either by her fellow students or by her teachers.  
  
In fact, Dumbledore suddenly wondered, would anyone at all remember her ?  
  
Oh yes…The Headmaster's face was lightened by an amused smile as memories flew back : yes, Snape definitely would.  
  
Comfortably settled in his favourite fireside chair, Albus Dumbledore let his mind wander in the past.  
  
****  
  
Ysandra woke up with a start.  
  
"Hell, she thought, it's the second time today I doze off. Well, inadequate naps seem to be a personal curse since a long time", she mentally added, while her dream in the train was coming back to her mind. "If I go on like this, I will be able to haunt Hogwart like a regular barn-owl each and every night."  
  
Her face, crossed by a grin at this idea, almost instantly darkened as she remembered who was waiting for her. The whole staff, and not so many changes. Dumbledore, of course, of whom she always thought with a distinct hint of affection ; Poppy Pomfrey and her healing abilities –only a indistinct silhouette in the background of her memories, for Ysandra had never been physically injured, and was generally avoiding illness ; the good Flitwick, who was probably even shorter now ; Madam Hooch, who had tried, year after year, with undeniable tenacity, to let her access to the beauty of Quidditch – to no avail, alas !…and Snape, of course, whose image was as clearly present in her mind as if the events of her dream had really happened the night before.  
  
Well, she had to admit to herself that the mere fact of seeing him again was not precisely filling her soul with contentment.  
  
She stopped her brooding to look around : the sun had dived almost completely behind the hill, and the upcoming dusk was spreading a touch of melancholy in the atmosphere. A whirl of the wind caused a low murmur in the oak's leaves, a touch of grey weakening the glowing luminosity of the sundown, was announcing the night.  
  
"Stop delaying this way ! It's ridiculous !" she scolded at herself while getting on her feet. "All right, the welcome will by no means be enthusiastic. But a slight distrust and a discreet awkwardness are, after all, comprehensible reactions. It's certainly not a common thing for a former Hogwart's student – and a bona fide witch – to come back in her Alma Mater to teach…Muggle Studies ! So, Ysandra pondered, come what may ! Let's enter the arena ! After the first step, there will be no more choice : tomorrow morning, I'll be back into the place from where it all began and, maybe, I'll be given a chance anew."  
  
With that last thought, she walked towards the lakeside. 


End file.
